


Sanguinis et Mortis

by wraith17



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Co-Parenting, F/M, can't really tag it cause spoilers, medium burn cause slow burns are hard, vampire shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:56:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29527437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wraith17/pseuds/wraith17
Summary: The ceremony must be upheld, the maiden offered to their dark god, a sacred duty all within the coven understand - All but one.Ethan Winters travels to a village nestled in the foothills of a mountain, a dark castle looming large above it, rumours of witchcraft and cannibalism tripping off the tongues of the frightened villagers even as all point him towards it.To find his daughter, he must brave the horrors within and fight to free her from the claws of the monster she now calls mother, even if he must sacrifice himself to do so.
Relationships: Lady Dimitrescu/Ethan Winters
Comments: 20
Kudos: 129





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea was born from the 3rd trailer, before the game's release, characters are probably OOC.  
> Big thanks to rozunderpressure for her support while I write this bad boy

The sacrifice is ready; the sigils drawn with bloody fingerprints on baby soft skin, flesh to feed their hungry god red and angry with anticipation as the cowled priests close in, their rhythmic chants growing louder as the ceremony reaches its climax.

 _Snap_.

The crack of a twig breaking under a heeled boot interrupts them, the leader of the group turning, furious and wrathful.

“Begone woman! This is no place for you!”

“I beg to differ,” The woman steps into the clearing, head ducking under branches until she can stand to her full height, disgust burning bright in her golden eyes. “What are you doing on my land?”

“We don’t have time for this - the stars are aligned! The moment is upon us, the Mother has ordere-”

She looks past the men to the altar, horror widening her eyes as she takes in the thrashing and screaming form of their sacrifice.

“She’s a baby!”

“You would defy our Mother, Lady Dimitrescu?”

“I don’t murder _babies_!” Lady Dimitrescu spits, an inhuman snarl rumbling in her chest, eyes glowing a feral yellow, nails elongating to wicked claws and with one gesture she slits the throat of the man. His blood rushes free of him in a gurgle, splattering over the white of her dress, the others screaming for help that will not come as she cuts them down without mercy.

Soon the only cries left are those of the would be sacrifice, loud and fearful and incessant.

“Shhh,” Lady Dimitrescu coos gently, bending over the altar and gently scooping up the tiny naked body of a female child into her arms. “It’s alright, my darling, don’t cry. They can’t hurt you now.” She reassures the baby, one hand unbuttoning and parting the fur of her coat, bringing the smaller cold body against her warm and ample cleavage, closing the coat around her.

The baby nestles eagerly into the warmth provided, tiny hands kneading at the soft flesh as her cries grow quieter while Lady Dimitrescu rocks her gently, a sweet soothing melody falling from her full red lips as she does so.

“That’s better.” She smiles down at the sweet little face nestled close against her, a warmth spreading through her as the child relaxes in her arms, nuzzling her chilled cheek against her breast. Lady Dimitrescu jumps in surprise as the baby latches to her nipple through the thin fabric of her dress, attempting to nurse with a whine of displeasure when nothing happens.

She laughs at the baby’s antics, carefully detaching her with a pop and a fond shake of her head. “Hungry are we? Well that won’t do.” A gloved finger gently trails down a cherubic cheek as the baby roots across her chest, settling for one of the dark roses pinned to the plunging neckline of her dress. “Why don’t you come with me, hmm? I will get you something more appetising to eat, my little rose.”

A happy gurgle is the reply and Lady Dimitrescu’s smile widens.

“Oh you approve? Good, well,” She says as she turns her back on the altar, elegantly stepping over puddles of cooling blood and chunks of dismembered flesh as she does so, and makes her way back into the darkness of the forest. “I hope you will like it in my castle, it’s warm and safe, you’ll have everything a young lady could ever wish for - you’ll even have sisters, I’m certain my girls will adore you.”

A crow caws in the distance, taking flight as the duo leave, returning to its mistress.

——

The sun has long since set upon the village nestled at the foot of the mountain, only an old woman remains outside her keen eyes peering into the darkness when the stranger appears; blonde and handsome, beaten down and afraid, yet she can see the strength in him. The same strength she needed.

“Be careful in the darkness lest the wolves get you.” She remarks as the stranger draws near, lured by her carefully lit fire.

“I’m, I’m looking for someone. Please can you help me?” He asks.

“Depends on who you seek.” She replies, gesturing for him to come closer.

“My daughter, Rosemary,” He says, offering a hastily retrieved photo from his pocket, holding it out unnecessarily. “She was stolen from me. I tracked the man who took her here.”

“There aren’t any babies like that in the village but,” She grins and holds up a hand to gesture at the mountain. “Rumour has it Castle Dimitrescu acquired a new resident, a little while ago now but - fair haired like your girl. But be careful, boy, the mistress of that castle is a sadistic witch, she steals the daughters of the village for her dark magic. None who enter that castle come out alive.” She chuckles to herself, knowing he would take the bait.

“If my daughter is there, I have to go.” The blonde replies, shoulders squared as he looks up at the castle high on the mountain, the high spires backlit ominously by the moon, determination and hope lighting up his dark eyes.

 _Perfect_.

“Then I wish you good fortune Mr-?”

“Winters, Ethan Winters. And thank you ma’am.”

“Just remember Ethan Winters, you mustn’t be seen by anyone in that castle.”

“Yes, yes, I won’t.” Ethan replies, drawing his coat around himself tighter, ready to head off into the snowy night. “Thank you again.” He says and dashes off.

The old woman grins, chuckling to herself as a crow lands beside her on the porch. “That’ll teach the little bitch not to interfere in my plans again. I have no room for weakness in my coven.”

—-

Shivering Ethan forces his way in through a servant’s doorway of the castle, the warmth of the entrance hall a welcome reprieve from the bitter cold of the nighttime air. His breath frosts in front of him as he makes his way into the castle proper, careful of the noise his shoes make as he begins to search the rooms for his daughter.

The startled gasp of a girl, dressed in a shapeless maid’s outfit, cuts his explorations short.

“No, wait.” He pleads as the girl hurries away, her eyes wide and terrified.

The old woman’s warning rings in his ears as he tries to catch her, chasing after her through a doorway only to fling himself backwards and away as a black sickle slashes at his throat, the tip grazing his Adam’s apple, a trickle of blood spilling free.

Ethan frantically backpedals on the marble floor, as a blonde girl rushes through the doorway, cackling and chasing after him, red tongue licking over her bloody lips as she raises her weapon once more.

“Daniela.”

By some miracle the psychotic girl stops and Ethan looks up sharply at the appearance of his saviour. Angelic in white a woman appears from around the corner, high heels clicking rhythmically on the wooden floorboards, her beautiful face half hidden by a wide brimmed hat. A slow smile spreads across her full ruby lips as she draws closer, Ethan swallowing heavily, Adam’s apple bobbing, as his dark eyes sweep over her hourglass figure as she stops by his feet, trembling at the way her golden eyes rake over his sprawled form.

“Man blood, Mother!” The girl, Daniela, sing-songs the grin on her face wide and manic as she turns to regard the woman.

“So I see, my love,” The woman smiles, indulgent and amused, bright white teeth stark against her lipstick as she steps closer, heels echoing loudly as she looms over him. “But what have I told you about playing with your food?”

Her gaze locks with his, Ethan shuddering at the intensity in her warm gold eyes as his trembling hand reaches up to cover his vulnerable throat, fingertips smearing the bright red blood, eyes widening in horror as the tall woman’s nostrils flare, her lips curling into a predatory smile and she looks at him like she wants to devour him - Ethan unsure in that moment if he would even mind it.

Not a witch then.

The girl clutches the sickle to her chest, a woebegone expression on her face as she begs. “But, I’m so hungry. It’s been so long since I’ve bled a man, can I please?”

The tall woman breaks eye contact, Ethan left shuddering and shaking, as though coming out of some sort of trance. Slowly starting to make his way backwards, hoping the girl’s whining will distract her mother.

“You had plenty at dinner.” The woman chides gently, one white heel lifting to press down firmly on his chest, pinning him in place on the cold floor effortlessly. “Not so fast, Mr Winters.”

“You know me?” Ethan splutters out, wheezing at the pressure, his hand automatically coming up to grasp at her ankle, fingers wrapping around the delicate bones, the calloused pads of his fingers catching on the silk of her ivory stocking as he attempts to shift her.

She laughs then, easing the pressure off his chest, her thick eyelashes fluttering coquettishly, eyes lidded as she smiles sweetly. “Everyone knows you, Ethan Winters. Strangers are a rarity here.” She leans down then, one claw tipped gloved hand reaching out to grasp at the collar of his shirt and lifts him up to his feet easily.

Ethan swallows heavily as he realises he barely comes up to her hips, his gaze lifting as her claws digging into his scalp as she grips his short blonde hair tight, coaxing him towards her as she nuzzles her nose against his jaw, inhaling his scent with delicate sniffs. He shudders, gooseflesh prickling over his skin.

“What a delightful treat it is to have a visitor.” She smiles, sharp and sweet, teeth bright as she bites into the sweat soaked flesh of his neck.

_Vampire_

Ethan screams - dear god he wishes it was from pain.

She overwhelms him, her scent, sweet and floral, filling his nose, her ebony curls tickling his jaw as she pulls back from him only to fasten her lips to the wound and she drinks. His blood bubbles up fast as she moans quietly, her claws flexing and biting into the back of his neck as she drags him closer to her and his heartbeat pounds loud in his ears, one hand flailing out and gripping her broad shoulder for stability, pulling her closer.

The girl gasps at his presumptive touch but he doesn’t care - black spots are already dancing across his vision, blurring the room as he tries in vain to stay standing, his legs giving out as the woman catches him, a purr rumbling in her throat as she pulls back from him only to run the flat of her tongue over the wound on his neck, soft noises of delight leaving her lips as she ensures nothing goes to waste, cleaning his neck gently like some kind of cat.

“How unexpected,” She trills softly and Ethan’s heart leaps in his throat as he looks up at her; black pupils blown wide, only a thin ring of gold remaining at the outside of her iris as she smiles back at him “I think I’ll keep you, Ethan Winters,” She adds happily, “Something so sweet shouldn’t be devoured hastily.” Her reddened tongue darts out to lick stray droplets from her lips as she smirks, exposing pink tinged teeth as she scoops him up into her arms with relative ease.

Ethan’s head lols against her ample cleavage, feeling drunk and like his skin was on fire at the same time, wanting more of her and he whimpers as she coos softly down at him.

The soft squall of an infant catches Ethan’s attention through his almost drunken haze, hope breaking through his shameful lust.

“Rosemary?” He slurs as if the baby will reply to him, dark eyes narrowing as the warm glow in the tall woman’s eyes evaporates.

“How do you know my daughter’s name?” She asks him, golden eyes searching his face as his vision grows blurry still, surely it's just a trick of the light when the woman looks concerned. “Daniela, tend to your sister while I take care of our guest.”

“Yes Mother.” The blonde cackles and disappears in an inky black cloud of insects.

Insects? No, it's just the blood loss surely.

The baby stops crying.

“Wait! Stop! What are you doing to her?” Ethan demands, slurring and flailing as futilely as a baby in her arms as she ignores him. Instead carries him away into a colder room and sets him down on a bed of some sort, the material rubbing against him nowhere near as soft as her skin and he finds himself missing it.

“Tend to him, if he dies-” The tall woman growls threateningly, trailing off as she glares down at the servant girl who meekly curtsies.

“Y-es, Lady Dimitrescu.” Comes the quiet reply, rough and calloused hands then reaching out to hastily bind his neck.

Ethan reaches out, blinking rapidly as he catches the silk of Lady Dimitrescu’s dress in his grasp. “Ro-”

“Shhh,” She coos, gently petting his sweat dampened hair from his eyes. “Rest now, Mr Winters.” The words and tone are gentle, soothing and hypnotising as he tries to fight the sleep that swiftly overtakes him.

What did she do to him?

He does not see Lady Dimitrescu for a week, at least not properly, he catches glimpses of her watching him, checking on him occasionally and more often than not, when she thinks him asleep, sniffing deeply at the skin of his throat, the servant girls who share the room with him frozen in horrified fear under their blankets while his heart flutters wildly in his chest.

On the seventh day the blonde girl, Daniela, comes to fetch him.

“Come, mother wishes to see you, Mr Winters.” The girl doesn’t wait for him to follow, leading him up out of the servant’s quarters into the castle proper, the heat from the roaring fire in the main hall warming Ethan instantly and he shudders as they begin to climb the winding staircase. The blonde pushes open one of the doors, more enticing heat luring him into the room, yet his body freezes in place once he is across the threshold.

There she is, he would recognise that cherubic smile and laughter anywhere - Rosemary.

The baby babbles, grown bigger than he last saw her, the yellow of the summer dress she is wearing glowing warm in the fire’s light - it is then that he suddenly realises those weeks of searching for her had turned into months, how many months had it been? He watches transfixed as one tiny, pink hand reaches out to Lady Dimitrescu, clumsy fingers running over the soft slope of her pale cheek down to her smiling mouth, smearing what he prays is just lipstick onto Rosemary’s fingertips. White teeth part from their beaming smile to nip at the fingers, Ethan’s heart hammering hard in his chest, mouth dropping open to shout, ready to fight if necessary. But his baby only squeals with more laughter, Lady Dimitrescu startling him even more when she joins in, lifting Rosemary up to press a gentle kiss to her cheek, settling the baby more comfortably against her voluptuous chest.

To Ethan’s astonishment, his daughter flops with contentment, one fist gripping firmly to the bright and sparkly necklace around the Lady’s neck, undoubtedly worth more than Ethan could make in his whole lifetime, and yet Lady Dimitrescu seems not to mind, as she holds his daughter close, uncaring of how the baby suckles at her collarbone, drool absorbing into the fabric of her, undoubtedly expensive, high collared red dress. How can Rosemary be so - at home?

“Ethan Winters,” Coos Lady Dimitrescu as she carefully pets the blonde fluff on top of Rosemary’s head. “Sit.” She purrs, tone moderated for the sake of the baby.

He stumbles into one of the fancy chairs, gripping tightly to the sides, head swimming at the sight of mother and child bonding, the image before him different from the fuzzy one in his memory of Mia cradling their daughter in much the same way, although he doesn’t recall Rosemary clinging to her mother the same way she does to this vampire.

“What did you do to her?” He asks, throat constricting around the emotion he feels at seeing her so close but held out of reach.

“The correct form of address is either ‘my Lady’ or ‘Lady Dimitrescu’, Mr Winters. If you want answers you be polite.” She looks at him expectantly then.

Ethan swallows heavily, nodding. “I apologise, Lady Dimitrescu.”

“That’s better,” She purrs with a smug, satisfied smile, the arm not holding his daughter reaching out to tap a black claw against an empty glass bottle sitting by her side on the table. “I fed her.”

“What? Blood?” He asks incredulously.

Lady Dimitrescu laughs then, melodic and terrifying, jostling Rosemary with the movement. Rosemary squalling in protest and thumps her little fist down on a breast, the flesh jiggling with the movement as she chuckles at the baby’s antics. Ethan shakes his head as he forces his gaze away from the vampire’s chest to her face once more.

“Goat’s milk.” She says simply. “Only the best for my daughter.” The possessive note to her voice unmistakable, as she practically hisses the word, clutching the baby closer.

“Why not a wet nurse? From the village?” He prompts, concerned about all the nutrition Rosemary was missing out on, surely just goat’s milk wasn’t enough.

“None would come. Don’t you know the rumours?” She leans in slightly as if it’s a secret, wicked golden eyes glinting predatorily. “I’m a witch, all my servant girls who fail to please me never to return to their families,” She scoffs and mutters something about despoiled flesh before continuing. “What woman would come here to aid my child?” She chuckles, looking away from him to gaze down at the lightly dozing child in her arms, a soft and gentle look coming over her features. Peculiar.

Ethan concedes that point as fair, the village is terrified of the lady and her daughters, yet another question burns brightly within him and so far she has seen fit to indulge him.

“Why did you take her?” He asks with a tremor to his voice.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Ebony brows furrow as she meets his gaze with a challenge in her eyes, condemning him. “I heard her cries and saw them,” She spits the word venomously, simmering rage visible in her bewitching golden eyes for a brief moment. She takes a deep breath to collect herself, continuing more calmly, “They left her naked and marked with their foul rituals on an altar covered in blood. ‘For Mother’ they said, as if it was going to stop me - I did what had to be done,” She pauses to gather herself, her fury and protectiveness of the child in her arms obvious. “What kind of mother would I be if I could deny a child a home and family that I can easily provide? What kind of _monster_ could leave her there to die?”

He slumps a little at her answer, confused and doubting himself now. Chris killed Mia, stole Rosemary and brought her here - didn’t he? He must have, after all, Ethan tracked him down to the village himself. But why take Rosemary to just abandon her? It didn’t make any sense.

“What is her name?” He asks, hoping to play dumb and get her to underestimate him - make a mistake he can capitalise on.

“I’m not a fool, Mr Winters, I know you know my daughter’s name. How is my question and you will answer it.” Lady Dimitrescu replies, haughty and cold. “And don’t lie, if you lie you will never see my daughter again. I promise you that and if I find out you mean my family harm-“ She trails off but Ethan understands the implication.

One look in her golden eyes confirms she isn’t bluffing.

Ethan runs a hand over his tired face, sighing deeply before replying. “Because it’s my daughter's name - I can prove it.” He then takes out the faded photograph from his pocket, holding it out for her to take.

Lady Dimitrescu eyes him warily, shifting Rosemary in her arms to be able to take the photograph, Ethan shuddering a little as she opens it and looks, her golden eyes scrutinising, mouth turned down in a frown.

“There may be some slight resemblance, offhand.” She concedes with a light shrug of her shoulder, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “Most babies look similar at that age.” She holds out her hand to return the photograph.

“Read the back, that ink isn’t new,” He insists, backpedaling when she frowns darkly. “Please, my Lady.” He backtracks, placatingly, a pleading whine to his tone.

Surprisingly, Lady Dimitrescu’s eyes widen, a pink tinge blossoming over already rouged cheekbones as she flips the photograph. “Rosemary Winters.” She reads aloud and huffs. “I do apologise, Mr Winters, it would appear you are not a deranged stalker.”

“But I am her father,” Ethan tries, the hairs at the back of his neck prickling when she meets his eyes then. “You must concede that.”

“I concede nothing,” Lady Dimitrescu says airily as she leans forward to tuck the photograph into his breast pocket, her claws a warning all their own as they scrape gently over his chest. “You lost a blonde baby recently was it? I found a blonde baby months ago, I find it troubling that you have only now looked for her without her mother.”

“Her mother is dead, my Lady.” He grits out. “And I didn’t know where to look, so it took me a while to track her down. What does it matter to you anyway? She’s my daughter, surely you and your husband can-“

Ethan startles badly at the melodic laughter that fills the air - staring at Lady Dimitrescu in entranced horror.

“Husband? Oh!” She pauses to wipe a tear from her eye. “I don’t have a husband - all of this is mine by birthright, my daughters all discarded treasures I found,” She says with a fond smile directed at Rosemary, kissing her forehead gently. “If you thought some lord was going to come in and just give you my daughter you are sorely mistaken, Mr Winters.”

“You won’t give her up, will you?” Ethan asks then, tone exhausted and defeated as he looks over the pair; the way Rosemary grins and swats playfully at the lady’s dangling pearl earrings and the look of complete adoration that is bestowed upon her.

“Never, a true mother would never abandon her child,” Lady Dimitrescu replies as she pats Rosemary’s back gently. “And so long as we are being honest, I frankly don't care if you are Rosemary’s father. There would be no child to fight over had I left her behind. Whether you like it or not, you owe me her life.”

Ethan’s jaw clenches as he meets the eyes of the smug vampire - hating himself for conceding that as truth, if she wasn’t lying. But why would she? For whatever reason Chris lost or abandoned Rosemary and this woman took her in.

“And I will be forever in your debt for that, my Lady. But no matter how grateful I am that you saved my daughter-“ He pauses as she growls threateningly, golden eyes flashing dangerously and a shiver of dread and fear shoots up his spine but he presses on. “I’m not going to just walk away, I didn’t abandon her then and I will not abandon her now. You can beat me, chain me, bleed me like an animal - I don’t care, do whatever you want just let me stay.”

“Whatever I want, hmm?” Lady Dimitrescu hums thoughtfully, an enigmatic smile on her lips. “Well, I suppose, for now, you will just need to prove your loyalty.”

“Could I hold her?” He chances after a brief pause, watching as she stiffens defensively. “I won’t, I won’t do anything. I just, it’s been months, I need to hold her.”

“No.” She says simply, cold and agonising to his heart, looking over his bedraggled state with derision. “You’re filthy, you’d make her ill.” Her clawed hand curls into a fist as she raps solidly in a knock upon the solid wood of the table.

A bedraggled and frightened young woman shuffles in quickly, keeping her head bowed low. “Y-yes, Lady Dimitrescu, how may I serve?”

“Arrange a bath for my guest,” Her nose wrinkles with disdain as Ethan attempts to protest. “If you want to hold her, you will be clean.” She baits him, practically dangling the babe sleeping soundly on her ample chest over him.

Hope burns bright and true in his heart.

“Go.” She commands with an elegant flick of her wrist, a dismissal the servant girl knows isn’t to be ignored as she ushers him out of the room, down and through the twists and turns of the castle until they arrive at a bathroom. It is a far cry from the modern ones he has used before, yet far more opulent, the large bathtub claw-footed and as gold as the rest of the interior of the castle.

A towel is placed by the bathtub as the servant girl retreats, looking at Ethan in such a peculiar way.

“What is it?” He asks.

“Why her?” She replies, shaking her head as if she cannot comprehend the thought.

“What do you-“ He begins only to be cut off as the servant girl pokes the side of his neck, to his surprise pain lances through him at the touch. His hand coming up to protect the wound confirms it, the bite mark. “It’s not what you think.”

The servant girl shakes her head. “She will eat you alive. No matter how many babies you give her.” She promises before leaving the room.

Ethan’s brow furrows as he strips himself of the sweat and grime encrusted clothes he wore for his mission. Leaving them in a pile as he steps into the already warm water. Impossible to be too surprised, Lady Dimitrescu likely didn’t enjoy her meals dirty. He winces slightly as he carefully cleans his neck, washing away the dried blood and grit from his skin.

The water is tinged a rusty brown when Ethan exits the bath, drying himself with a towel and putting on the set of clothes that were left for him by the servant girl. His mind slowly turns over what the girl said to him, deciding not to worry about it, for the time being, focusing on being allowed to hold his girl when he returns.

He waits outside the bathroom, unsure where to go, the castle too large and confusing to be able to navigate back to the dining room. A different servant girl approaches him, meeker than the last one.

“This way, sir.” She utters quietly and leads him back to the dining room.

A melodic humming fills his ears as he hurriedly re-enters the room, dark eyes searching out Rosemary, she is much how he left her; sleeping contentedly, tiny lips nursing on the necklace she still holds tightly in her fist.

The humming stops.

“Much better,” Purrs Lady Dimitrescu, meeting his gaze confidently, a primal hunger lighting up her golden cat eyes, as she pats the tiny child rhythmically on the back. “Come.” She says simply, not moving from her spot at the other end of the table.

Ethan moves hurriedly to her side, looking down at the tiny treasure in her arms. Her hand not cradling the child reaches out to push him down into the chair next to hers. Ethan goes easily, heartbeat fluttering in his throat as she easily plucks the child from her shoulder and places her in his arms, careful to support Rosemary’s head until he adjusts his hold.

Tears prick his eyes as he brings the secure weight of his daughter close to his chest. Cherishing the moment, leaning down to smell her soft baby scent, finding it different than he remembers, mixed with the scent of roses and rust.

“Thank you.” He rasps out, holding Rosemary firmly then, the baby wriggling in her sleep, nose turning to him as she sniffs him. Dark eyes snap open to look up at him in shock, limbs scrunching up as she lets out a distressed cry. “Hey, hey, kiddo. You’re okay.” He attempts to console her as she flails, his mind racing and at a loss for how to calm her down.

“Shhh,” Soothes Lady Dimitrescu, leaning over to lightly tap Rosemary on the nose with her fingertip, startling the baby out of her tears. “There now, that’s better.” She coos as the baby reaches out and clasps the finger in front of her, pulling it into her mouth and slobbering all over the digit. “Good girl.” She purrs leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, Ethan able to smell her now she’s so close, the same scent Rosemary has - rust and roses. Curious.

Ethan unabashedly stares at the pair of them, his chest aching with the agony of rejection as he witnesses once more the comfort level between them, jealous that this woman has so easily replaced both himself and Mia in Rosemary’s heart. The baby is more interested in her new mother than he can ever recall being interested in her first one, his dark eyes follow her as Lady Dimitrescu reaches for a chalice on the table, tilting it towards herself with a frown as she checks it.

It’s empty he realises quickly as her cat eyes cut to him quickly, a different hunger than before lighting them up as she stares at her mark on his neck.

“How thankful are you for my generosity, Mr Winters?” Lady Dimitrescu asks him, leaning forward in her chair.

Ethan swallows heavily, looking between his daughter and the vampire. “I am very grateful, Lady Dimitrescu.”

She moves so quickly then, close enough to kiss him, running her tongue over her healing bite mark on his neck. “Won’t you give me another taste then? Your blood is so sweet.” She whines in his ear, Ethan shuddering before nodding slightly.

Her red lips split wide in a smile as she leans in and bites down on his neck, careful to avoid the healing one, her free hand coming up to cradle the back of his neck, claws gently scraping through the scruff as she sucks on the wound. Ethan squirms against her, not fighting the hold or the bite, wondering why her sucking on his neck doesn’t ache with the pain he was expecting, instead, he feels that same warmth filling him up, skin suddenly sensitive as the pants he is wearing get restrictive.

_Fuck_

Soft purring and groans reach his ears, the tickle of her curls on his throat distracting him as he blinks sluggishly and holds Rosemary closer, being careful not to drop her even as the vampire drags him closer, the flat of her tongue dragging over his neck, cleaning up anything she may have missed before it is lost to the collar of his shirt.

Her lipstick is smudged slightly as she pulls back, panting softly, ample chest heaving with the effort of regulating her breathing, pupils blown and camouflaging the gold of her iris, a soft, pretty pink tinge to her cheeks as she licks the red blood from her lips.

“You are special, Ethan Winters.” She coos, leaning in to press a warm kiss to the corner of his mouth, breathing his scent in deep with a sigh. Ethan’s horror only grows as he realises he wishes her kiss was just a touch more to the right.

“I am?” He asks incredulously, as Lady Dimitrescu shifts to cup his cheek, hooded golden eyes smoldering in their intensity.

She nods, angling her perfect face just so. “Would you like a taste?” She asks, leaning in, Ethan lifting a hand to guide her to him, relishing the tickle of her curls on his wrist as he pulls her towards him, her warm breathing licking across his lips.

The shrill cry of the baby separates the pair akin to a bucket of cold water being thrown over them, Lady Dimitrescu clearly frazzled as she pulls back from Ethan as though burned and she bends at the waist to lift the crying girl back into her arms. Quickly putting space between the two as she shifts back into her own chair.

“Hush now, darling, hush.” She coos, pressing gentle kisses to Rosemary’s downy blonde hair even as her golden eyes never leave Ethan’s dark ones.

The baby clings to her mother’s throat tightly, tiny hands pawing at whatever she can reach in her fit; catching on the jewels of the necklace, the lace edging of the dress’ high collar or the lady’s dark curls as the baby climbs higher to sulk and wail in her ear.

“Jealous little thing, aren’t you?” Lady Dimitrescu says, voice low and amused as she shifts in her seat, thighs squeezing and rubbing together, trying to create some relief for herself as her other hand pats Rosemary’s back firmly in comfort. “I think it’s past time for your nap, my little rose.” She finishes and stands from the chair to her full height, towering over Ethan even as he stands too.

A clawed hand lightly cups his chin, claw pressing down ever so slightly as she strokes gently over his lower lip, appearing almost wistful before she rips herself away with a sigh.

“That will be all, Mr Winters.” She says simply as her hand drops away and sweeps from the room, one of her daughters standing in the hallway with a frown on her face as she waits.

Ethan understands, he doesn’t have his freedom just yet, and so goes with the dirty vampire back to his bunk in the servants’ quarters, waiting until the door is shut and before he sits down on his bed, letting out a shaky sigh as he scolds himself for the persistent hardness of his cock, feeling foolish for the reaction and reminds himself that he is only within this castle for Rosemary.

No matter how tempting Lady Dimitrescu is…


	2. Chapter 2

Waking with the cold hand of fear tightly encompassing their hearts is a feeling all the servants of Castle Dimitrescu either become accustomed to or allow to consume and overwhelm them until an inevitable mistake is made - a mistake that more often that not results in either disfigurement or death at the claws of the sadistic monsters the mistress of the castle calls her children. Unfortunately as of late Lady Dimitrescu has been - distracted and even more lax with her daughters than usual. The unlucky child she has taken in her near constant companion as the baby clings at the monster she will learn to call mother. The girl not knowing any better - instinct driving her to love the one who saved her, the servants divided on the opinion if she would have been better off dead. Although no one smart would dare to so much as whisper those thoughts - the walls have ears after all and despite Lady Dimitrescu’s gargantuan height she is a stealthy creature, her daughters even more so. Even whispers are not safe when a beetle could spell your doom. 

The servant girl changes a fearful glance at Lady Dimitrescu’s prisoner, for he is a prisoner, much like the rest of them, although his position is far less enviable as she leaves the room. He is kind enough, considerate and thankful for all the servants give him even as he is only kept alive for the mistress’ pleasure, a sacrifice or toy, hard to say, the Lady’s whims impossible to predict, as she bleeds him half to death once a week and god only knows what she has in store for him - why she is insisting he lives each time she carries him back to his bed, bleeding and broken yet clinging to her with the remaining strength in his body. 

The mistress’ behaviour only becoming more and more peculiar the longer he stays with the castle walls; she watches him, silent and ominous - ensuring that he does not see her while she does so but the servants see, for their Lady cares not for the dirt under her shoe, they are insignificant to her - their presence a constant she doesn’t notice. The most horrifying thing of all they have witnessed is when the Lady visits him in the dead of night, her long form bent over his bunk, snuffling deeply at his throat, her tongue licking over his vulnerable skin and the bite marks as she purrs. The servants shudder and curl tighter under their blankets, praying the Lady doesn’t notice they are witnesses to the strange courtship - if they didn’t know better they’d say Lady Dimitrescu is infatuated. The servant recoils in horror at the thought, if that is the mistress’ intention he is going to die - bloody and painful, unless he somehow escapes. She shakes her head, knowing he would never do that, Lady Dimitrescu didn’t place him in her dungeon for a reason - she has no need to. Mr Winters bound by something far stronger than iron or steel - his love for his daughter more than enough to keep him here until the Lady grows bored and ends his life. 

The girl ponders this inevitability as she goes about her morning routine, ensuring that the dining room is ready for her mistress and her daughters’ breakfast; polishing and straightening the silverware, too nervous about streaks to trust last night’s cleaning, even though she knows it was perfect. Mr Winters is a good man, at least she thinks he could be, the child is already forfeit, completely besotted with her new mother, but perhaps her father could live and move on - forget he even came to this cursed land. 

If only the fascination wasn’t mutual. 

His newest bites are healing well as Ethan checks them in the little vanity mirror that is shoved in the corner of the servant’s bathroom. His fingers trail absentmindedly over the impressions of Lady Dimitrescu’s teeth in his neck. Surprisingly the marks are flat, no evidence left behind of any fang, healing faster than he would have anticipated even with his - gift. He jumps in surprise as he sees the dark haired daughter of Lady Dimitrescu over his shoulder in the mirror. 

“Mother wants you,” She says shortly, swinging the door open wide beside her, impatience clear in her tone. “Hurry up.” 

He frowns as he fixes the collar of his shirt, trying his best to hide the bites from any wandering eyes before he follows the clearly irate vampire out of the servants’ quarters. They quickly make their way into the castle proper, climbing the winding staircase and following a long corridor, passing by a servant girl holding a basket of linen as they do so. Lady Dimitrescu’s daughters, however, never pass up an opportunity to terrorise the staff. The vampire lashing out and striking the basket from the girl’s hands as she shrieks and cowers against the wall, shielding her face with her arms as the daughter cackles.

“Pathetic!” She sneers and shouts at the girl. “Clean up your mess!”

The girl sobs as she sinks to her knees, shaking fingers clumsily picking up the fallen linen and trying to put it back in the basket all the while Lady Dimitrescu’s daughter watches on, keen yellow eyes waiting for any excuse. So Ethan reaches out, scooping a towel of some sort into his arms and places it in the basket when suddenly he finds himself scruffed by the collar of his shirt, claws mercilessly digging into the meat of his shoulder as he is flung down the hallway.

Ethan grunts and gasps as pain flares in his ribs as he lands heavily, crashing into one of the many statues decorating the hallway. He grits his teeth, lifting himself up onto his hands and knees, one hand tentatively running over his side, relieved to not find any blood. The vampire cackles as he turns back to look at her, wiping her hand as if it was soiled by the mere action of having touched him on the skirts of her black dress. 

“Lady Dimitrescu doesn’t like to be kept waiting, you had best remember that, Mr Winters.” She snarls, yellow eyes feral as she bears her bloody teeth at him with a growl, stomping down the hallway towards him. 

He stands, brushing carpet fibers off on his thighs, clenching his jaw tight as she grabs him again, pulling him down the hallway by his hair, his scalp burning in pain as she tugs hard, pulling strands free of their follicles. Ethan hisses and reaches up to claw himself free, anger rushing through him as she manhandles him - only to lose his chance as she swings open a door and flings him inside it, cackling as he stumbles and ends up flat on his face on the rug.

“Berenice,” Comes the growled warning from the occupant of the room. 

Ethan looks up at the voice, dark eyes locking with warm gold. Lady Dimitrescu sits on the couch by the lit fireplace like a queen, a long cigarette holder held loosely in her hand as she takes another drag of nicotine, breathing out the smoke slowly as she looks at him, Ethan shuddering with the intensity of it, she looks - hungry. She smiles enigmatically for a moment before she lifts her gaze to her eldest, her tone decidedly unimpressed.

“I did not raise you to be rude,” She continues, tapping the holder over the ashtray, letting the ash fall free, her expression darkening. “Apologise - now.”

Berenice sneers angrily, grumbling under her breath. “My apologies, Mr Winters.” 

Lady Dimitrescu smiles then, tone gentle and placating. “Good girl, now leave us.” 

Berenice does as she is bid, closing the door behind her even as she glares venomously at Ethan.

“Teenagers,” Lady Dimitrescu sighs wearily with a fond shake of her head, reaching down her gloved hand to help Ethan up, smiling kindly at him then. “Are you alright?” She puts down the cigarette holder, snuffing out the remainder of the cigarette as she coaxes him up next to her. 

“Not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me - I’ll be fine.” Ethan says, still surprised by how effortlessly she lifts him, grasping her hand firmly in his own, holding onto her even as he settles on the couch next to her with his back to the fire, dark eyes raking over her as she smiles widely; the light of the fire twinkling off the jewels she wears about her throat and ears; her high collared dress a warm gold, the colour a compliment to her uniquely coloured eyes.

Ethan swallows heavily as Lady Dimitrescu reaches past him, letting go of his hand in the process, claws hovering over a floral printed tea set.

“Would you like some tea, Mr Winters?”

Ethan hesitates, glancing between her and the tray, his surprise at the gesture obvious as his brow furrows. “Tea? Uh, what kind is it?”

Lady Dimitrescu chuckles then. “It’s just earl grey, I assure you. Shall I be mother?”

“Sure, I guess.” He replies, sitting up as she pours him a cup first then one for herself.

“Do you take milk and sugar?”

“Just a bit of milk is fine, thank you.” He replies, taking the tea cup from her hands, enjoying the feeling of warmth rushing back into his frozen fingertips even as the surrealism of a vampire serving him tea as if they are old friends boggles his mind.

Just what game is she playing at?

“I don’t suppose you’d mind terribly if I added just a drop or two?” She asks him, picking up a small opaque vial next to the tea pot.

Ethan finds himself shaking his head no, surprising himself with how at ease he is at the prospect of a vampire drinking blood in front of him.

“It’s your tea.”

She smiles then, tipping the vial and adding two fat drops of blood, the warm caramel colour of her tea dyed a darker and more sinister garnet. He watches her, intrigued as she stirs it in, lifting the cup to her ruby red lips and takes a delicate sip. 

“Is that?”

“Maiden’s blood? Yes, a condition of employment here, although I do wish they wouldn’t make such a fuss. As if it were up to me how blood tastes.” She tsks and shakes her head, ebony curls rustling with the movement. 

“What do you mean?”

“I’m afraid once a girl has enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh her taste is - different. I cannot allow my wine to be tainted with their poor decisions.”

“You can’t forbid that.” Ethan gasps in horror.

“Selling wine infected with all manner of venereal diseases wouldn’t exactly be a sound business plan, Mr Winters.” She sniffs airily. “I lose enough servants as it is from high standards, let alone if they were permitted to breed.” Her nose wrinkles delicately as her upper lip curls to reveal sharp white teeth, her disgust and contempt obvious.

“They aren’t animals!”

“Perhaps not, but you might share my view of them if you were the one finding the frozen corpses of infants outside your home.”

“What?”

“Maidens are hard to come by and not for the reasons you think. Sadly, I am but one woman and there are too many ‘maidens’ trying to hide their mistakes.” Her eyes widen with sadness; large and gold in the fire’s light. “I have not found a baby alive for many years, not since Daniela. No good god fearing woman would want a witch to raise their child, unwanted as they may be. Sickening isn’t it?”

Ethan nods, bile building in his throat at the thought of how close his own daughter was to sharing their fate. “It’s not really a practice where I’m from, I can’t believe it still happens here.”

“You’re a long way from home, Mr Winters. These mountains are a place of unspeakable horrors and magic; exposing babies is not the worst thing to happen in that forest.”

“Are you talking about Rosemary? About what you stopped?”

Surprisingly she looks down then, thick eyelashes fluttering against her rouged cheeks as she toys with her glove. 

“I shouldn’t even be speaking with you about it.” She shakes her head lightly, curls rustling. “It’s - unwise to challenge dark magic here, so far from the light.” 

“You’re a vampire, surely you’re - familiar with them? It can’t be a threat to you.”

“I wouldn’t call myself a vampire - I was just born like this, my brother too; it’s a gift that lives in the Dimitrescu bloodline. We weren’t made by blood magic in the woods - what you are referring to is old and not to be trifled with.” 

“You talk about it like, like it’s real.”

“Power is power, Mr Winters, I am not the most powerful creature in this land - and my family has not survived this long by being stupid.”

“Are you, is it safe? For Rosemary? You’re talking as if you’re...trapped, like a prisoner or something.”

“This is why you must stay inside the castle, especially in the winter, the forest is dangerous even while the gods of this land slumber.” She smiles then, a sad little thing. “You must understand, freedom is an illusion and there is always a price to pay.” 

She trails off, a somber silence descending upon the room, the only noise the occasional crackle from the fireplace. Ethan watches carefully as her beautiful face shutters, a flicker of fear and worry swiftly hidden behind a bright and false smile as she looks back to him, a primal hunger that doesn’t bode well for him lighting up her golden eyes.

“Enough of such talk, I’ve waited as long as I could.”

“Waited?” He squeaks as she is suddenly flush against him, able to feel her every line and curve warm against the hard muscle of his body.

“So you could heal.” She coos as she angles her face, clawed hand cupping his jaw and Ethan’s heart jumps a stuttery rhythm in his chest and she leans in to kiss him.

To Ethan’s dismay, his jaw is tilted up at the last minute, her ruby red lips pressing an open mouthed kiss against his vulnerable flesh. The warm rush of her breath against his heated skin causing Ethan to shudder bodily, gooseflesh prickling all over his body and the fine hairs on his arms standing on end as his clutch at her biceps, his fingers digging into the soft silk of her dress, torn in his warring desires to push her off or pull her closer.

She arches into him, whining, as she licks languidly along his jugular vein, her shoulders trembling, skin pebbling at the salty taste of his skin. Her curls tickle his throat as she continues to bathe his neck with her tongue, whimpering as she holds back from sinking her teeth into his soft skin.

“May I?” She whispers against his heated skin, the leather of her glove sliding down his chest to his heaving abdomen, rubbing his belly in soothing, teasing circles as her claws tap playfully against his belt buckle.

Ethan grunts as she teases him, wanting nothing more than to grab her wrist and force her hand lower, unashamed as her soft lips trail sweet kisses over his pulse point, leaving impressions written in lipstick over the pebbling skin. One of his hands curling their fingers to tangle in her ebony curls, marvelling at the softness, tugging lightly on one, watching it straighten and bounce, brushing against her reddened cheek.

Ethan jumps as she moans against his throat, teeth nipping at his skin and he helplessly nods his head, a whine leaving his throat as she bites down firmly. His blood fills her mouth easily, her golden eyes sliding shut in bliss as she gulps down greedy mouthfuls. Ethan shuddering, the fires of desire burning over his nerves, her scent overwhelming him as rust fills the air. His fingers clutch at the back of her neck, turning white as he grips her tighter, suddenly feeling lightheaded. 

He blinks rapidly to banish the sensations, even as he starts slumping against her, one hand clutching tighter to her waist, as he tries to catch himself by grabbing her broad shoulder.

“Oh!” Lady Dimitrescu says, as Ethan paws at her breast, her nipples stiffening in response as lust burns brightly in her golden eyes. She licks the remains of her treat from her lips, lunging up to kiss him when Ethan suddenly slumps against her, blinking rapidly to chase away the black spots clouding his vision.

“I feel funny.” He slurs against her cheek, curling up against her, head resting against her collarbone, hoping his world would stop spinning as she catches him. Ethan curling gratefully against her, nuzzling against the pillowy softness of her breasts, the rumble of her satisfied purr hypnotic and soothing. 

It takes everything within her to chain the bloodthirsty beast within herself - to stop, breathing rough and strained, her nipples hard and aching as the silk of her dress teasingly rubs against them, only made worse by Ethan’s nuzzling and groping of her breasts. Her thighs shift and she presses them together, suppressing the moan wanting to tear free of her throat as she cradles him protectively. Instead running her clawed fingertips gently through his soft blonde hair, humming a lullaby from her’s and her daughters’ childhood to relax him even as he fights to stay awake. 

“I may have been a tad too enthusiastic.” She explains quietly as she ducks her head to lap at his wound gently, ensuring the bleeding slows and stops - that he will recover. “Rest now, Mr Winters - I’ll keep you safe.” She assures him and nuzzles against the top of his head. 

Ethan’s pale eyelashes fluttering closed against his cheeks as his body slackens against hers, his arms curling loosely around her waist, holding onto her even as he faints, her siren song luring him into oblivion.

“There’s always next time.” 

She is gone when Ethan awakens in the servant’s quarters later, his head heavy and feeling fuzzy, nose aflame with her scent, rust and roses clinging to his clothes. Gingerly he reaches out to check on the stinging bite mark on his neck, fingers coming away slick with a waxy red substance - her lipstick, he realises as he rubs it between his fingers.

“How many times are you going to let Her nearly kill you?” Comes the condemning whisper from a servant girl as she squats by his bedside, pale eyes dark and cold as equally hard fingers reaching out with a damp washcloth to scrub the blood and lipstick from his neck roughly.

“She didn’t, she stopped herself.” Ethan finds himself snapping immediately as he pushes the invasive touch away, his neck burning as fresh blood weeps free. “She always does.”

“And the next time?” 

“What do you want me to do? She has my daughter.”

“She’s a monster! And you, you’re complicit, letting her drink your blood,” The servant girl whispers as if the walls will hear her. “That baby you’re so worried about is only going to end up as a bloodthirsty monster - just like her. She’d be better off dead.”

“Don’t!” Ethan warns her. “Don’t you dare threaten my daughter! I don’t know what you think I’ll do if you get me angry enough but I’m not stupid. She’s letting me stay and see my daughter, I’m not going to do a damn thing to jeopardise that. She can keep me here and bleed me for the rest of my life, I don’t care so long as I can watch my daughter grow up.”

“You’re disgusting, letting that whore do whatever she wants to you. If you were a real man you’d take that baby and run.” 

Furious Ethan stands on shaky legs, stumbling like a fawn. “She’s not a whore and the only fool here is you - if you want to leave so badly. Do it.” He stares hard at her, glaring as she falters. “That’s what I thought.” 

The servant girl sneers, shaking like a leaf. “I’d pray for your soul, if there is even anything left to save.” She snaps and storms out. 

A black beetle settles on the glass of the window, the fury within Ethan yielding to a bitter queasiness deep in his belly as the bug flies away. His fears are proven correct later that evening as he watches as two other maids clean up the bed area the servant girl used, her belongings removed.

“What happened?” He asks, his chest tightening in dread even though he already knows.

“Her employment has been terminated, sir. Miss Sofia ordered the bunk cleaned out. That’s all.” 

The head maid approaches him in the following days, shaking and nervous when she asks if he would mind helping them with some of the chores around the castle - Ethan agreeing, anything to help the time pass faster, certain that Lady Dimitrescu will not want to see him until she can feed once more. His embarrassment is palpable, unsure if he even wants to face the condemnation that would surely be in her golden eyes after he groped her.

“We are short staffed and we cannot keep up with the chores,” Is the only explanation he is given when he asks the maid and she leads him to a massive library, pointing to the stacks of books left carelessly near the doors. “Lady Dimitrescu would be...displeased if messes were left. I realise it is a lot to ask but-“

“No, no, it will give me something to do.”

“The books are organised in a particular way - the small neat stack are the ones Lady Dimitrescu reads and as such are stored on the highest four rows. The others are what the young mistresses read and are on the rows below it. They are all sorted by author name in alphabetical order.”

Ethan nods then. “Thank you.”

“There is a ladder you can use, be careful, it is not particularly sturdy.” She says and swiftly leaves the room, leaving Ethan to it. 

He leaves Lady Dimitrescu’s books till last, eyeing the rickety ladder as he cautiously climbs it, two books tucked under his arm as he stretches to put one back in the neat gap left for it.

“What are you doing, Mr Winters?” 

Ethan startles badly, flailing and dropping the books as he does so, over balancing and slipping off the ladder.

Wham

Ethan gasps as he suddenly finds himself pinned between the bookshelf and a warm body. Lady Dimitrescu’s golden eyes looking up at him with a curious amusement, her claws digging into his triceps as she supports him gently. “Careful,” She purrs as she shifts against him. “You could get hurt.” 

“Thank you, my Lady.” Ethan breathes out quietly, dark eyes wide as he settles his palms on her shoulders, fingers curling around them and the soft material of her dark blue dress.

“Don’t worry, I won’t drop you.” She coos with a warm smile, lifting him more firmly against her as she side steps to allow him to climb back onto the ladder. 

Ethan grasps at it with clumsy fingers, clutching the wood tightly, gulping as Lady Dimitrescu releases him only to kneel on the carpeted floor to pick up what he had dropped. She straightens to her full height again, handing him back the books. 

“I was reading those, what are you doing with them?” She asks curiously.

Ethan looks at her then as he reaches out to take the books, she doesn’t look angry but still he swallows nervously. “You’re short staffed and I wanted to help.”

“Hmm,” She hums gently, leaning forward to delicately sniff him. “Are you not finding yourself properly stimulated? I would hate for you to be unfulfilled during your stay here.” 

Ethan huffs then, reaching out to press his palm against her collarbone, pressing against the string of pearls draped around her throat, holding her back. “What happened to the servant girl?”

“What girl?” She murmurs softly, undeterred as she leans in to gently lick over the newest bite mark, relishing his shiver as she does so, thick eyelashes fluttering closed against her cheeks as she enjoys the salty taste of his skin and the lingering rust in her bite. A thrill running through her, pressing against him more firmly, headless of his attempt to stop her and whimpering as his thigh slots between her legs. 

“You know which one.” He replies, shuddering and blindly shoving the final book back on the shelf, fingers sliding up her shoulder to her neck, the cool tickle of her pearl earrings a contrast to the warmth building up inside him, trying desperately to ignore the searing heat of her pressed up against his thigh.

She sighs heavily then, breasts pressing up against his chest, Ethan’s heart thumping harder in his chest. “The rude one, yes. I don’t tolerate rudeness in my castle, Mr Winters. Not from my daughters and certainly not from my servants. Surely you’re not upset,” She asks, chin lifting to look him in the eye, her expression serious as she holds firmly to the ladder, the wood creaking ominously. “After what she said would you want her around Rosemary?”

Ethan pauses, mind wrestling with the morality of the question but ultimately settling on the same thing - the girl had threatened his daughter. “No, I wouldn’t.” Ethan concedes, slumping a little against the ladder. 

“You’re upset - why?”

“I didn’t want you to be right about them.” He admits quietly, slowly making his way down the ladder, pausing when her arm blocks him.

“Why don’t you join me for tea?”

“My Lady?”

“You’ve worked so hard for me, Mr Winters, you must be thirsty - Rosemary will be there.”

Hope lights up his eyes, a broad smile to match hers spreading across his face as he nods. “Yes, thank you.” Her arm moves, claws holding onto the shoulder of his jacket as she ensures he makes it down in one piece. “I won’t fall, don’t worry.”

“You don’t know how good your blood tastes, the smell of it,” She shudders and murmurs gently, fixing the collar of his shirt as he readjusts his jacket, fingertips brushing against her bites. “I don’t want to take more than you can handle.”

“I can’t be that irresistible that you’d just snap and kill me from a skinned knee.”

“Such faith you have in me, Mr Winters, but I am afraid the floor does not have the same considerations I do,” She remarks lightly as she sweeps from the room, beckoning him as she looks over her shoulder. “This way.”

Ethan rushes out of the room, hurrying to keep up with her long strides, catching up only when he nearly barrels into her when he rounds a corner, her pace significantly slower now as they walk.

She stops, after a time, outside of a door, stepping to the side of it as she gestures to it. “After you.”

Ethan opens the doors, his eyes widening as three girls dressed in black lift their heads to look at him, the Cheshire grins on their faces more disconcerting than any scowl they could shoot his way. However it is the blonde baby who really takes his breath away; her little cherubic face lighting up with joy, little hands reaching out as she begins to bounce in excitement while Ethan moves closer to pick her up.

“Mama!” 

Ethan freezes in place, muscles locking, heart aching in complete devastation as Lady Dimitrescu obliviously moves past him, red lips smiling widely as she picks Rosemary up, cradling her in her arms gently as the baby snuggles against her.

“Hello my little rose, were you a good girl for your sisters?” Lady Dimitrescu asks as she peppers the baby’s face with kisses as his daughter coos with delight and giggles happily.

“She was, Mother.” Daniela replies for the baby, taking another sip of her tea.

“But she wouldn’t have her bottle,” Berenice adds, shooting Ethan a smug look. “She only wants you to do it.” 

“Oh dear, well we shall have to remedy that.” Lady Dimitrescu remarks lightly as she sits down in a chair, settling the baby against her breasts as she picks up a bottle filled with milk, no red tinge to suggest anything sinister. Rosemary latching to the bottle’s nipple, blonde lashes settling against her plump cheeks, her little fist dimpling the Lady’s breast as she feeds.

“May we be excused, Mother?” Asks the red head, undoubtedly Sofia. “Uncle promised we could go hunting with him - there is a deer herd nearby.”

Lady Dimitrescu frowns then. “When did he tell you this?”

“The other day, he wasn’t here long.” Daniela replies looking tentative, fiddling with her tea cup and saucer in a way that betrays her nervousness, unwilling or unable to look her mother in the eye. 

“You were otherwise engaged with our guest. Uncle didn’t wish to interrupt you.” 

“Berenice!” Sofia gasps, dark gold eyes flickering between their mother and her.

“What Sofia? Nothing happened, mother was merely busy, as a lady often is.” Berenice replies, a challenge in her voice as she holds her mother’s furious gaze, the implication as clear as it is condemning. 

“I would choose my next words very carefully if I were you, daughter.” Lady Dimitrescu growls threateningly. 

The fine hairs at the back of Ethan’s neck rise in warning at the inhuman noise, his breath hitching and catching in his throat as his panicked gaze looks to the innocent baby cuddled up against the enraged vampire. 

“Time to go, right Daniela?” Sofia interrupts, quickly grabbing one of her dark haired sister’s arms. 

“Yes, uncle will be wondering where we are!” Daniela agrees and grabs the other arm. “Goodbye mother, we will tell him you say hello.” 

“Hey!” Berenice shouts as her sisters drag her backwards out of the chair, knocking it over and out the door as her sisters cackle, the thumping noises of her body being thrown around followed by the shattering of glass.

Lady Dimitrescu sighs heavily, dark eyebrows furrowing in an annoyance only a parent could know. “That better not have been priceless,” She mutters before turning her attention back to Rosemary, cooing at her happily as the baby nurses. “You’re a good girl though aren’t you Rosemary? You’re not going to grow up to talk back to your Mama are you?”

Rosemary giggles around the nipple in her mouth, her tiny lips lifting in a smile and her feet kicking out as she drinks her bottle - the only noises in the room, the gentle humming of Lady Dimitrescu and the little girl’s greedy gulps of milk. Ethan watches them, feeling all the more like an intruder the more time passes within the castle.

“Sit down Mr Winters, help yourself to anything you like - there should be biscuits if you are hungry. Unless Daniela ate them all, she does have quite the sweet tooth.” 

He sits down numbly then, hesitant to touch anything those dirty vampires had, noticing the bloody fingerprints left over the tea set and the cups they had discarded, half filled with a malevolent red brown liquid he recognises instantly. 

Blood 

He is not drinking that.

“I’m fine, my Lady, thank you.” He says instead, settling in to watch his daughter, waiting for the moment when she has finished feeding so he can hopefully hold her.

Lady Dimitrescu frowns then, shifting in her seat to look over the tea set, her upper lip curling in disgust as she sees what he does.

“I don’t blame you,” She replies, snapping her gloved fingers and looking expectantly at the door as a servant girl rushes inside. “Girl, clean up this mess and bring another tea set,” She pauses and looks at him then, golden eyes looking over his disheveled and raw form. “Don’t forget the biscuits.” She warns as the servant cutsies meekly, shaking fingers picking up the tray, the fine china rattling ominously against the saucers as she does so, terror clear in her expression as she carries it out of the room.

Lady Dimitrescu scoffs, picking up a tea towel and draping it lazily over her shoulder, lifting Rosemary to drape her over her shoulder and pats her back firmly. The little girl wriggling and reaching out to play with her mother’s curls and earrings. Her body jerking as she hiccups, spitting up some of her meal onto the tea towel. Lady Dimitrescu carelessly drops the spoiled towel onto the carpet, leaving it for the servants and lifts Rosemary back up to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, smiling as the baby coos at her, her golden eyes flicker to his dark ones, considering him for a moment before she stands, kneeling on the floor in front of him as she holds Rosemary out in offering. 

“Take her,” She insists, looking up at him expectantly as he carefully shuffles forward to cradle his precious girl against his chest. Rosemary anxiously glances between them, only settling when Lady Dimitrescu nuzzles her gently, the baby patting at her cheek as she settles in her father’s arms. “How do you feel?”

“Whole, happy.” He confesses, instead of drawing his daughter closer to him, he moves closer to her and the woman on her knees in front of him, keeping Rosemary close to Lady Dimitrescu, even as it hurts to acknowledge she is only accepting his touch because her mother stays close by. 

“I’m glad.” She replies softly, hooking her pinky finger into his daughter’s tight fist, smiling as Rosemary holds onto it like a lifeline, dark eyes anxiously locked with Ethan’s.

“It’s me Rosie - I’m your dad.” Ethan coaxes gently, keeping his tone gentle and uplifting.

Rosemary waves her little hands frowning with concentration and kicks her little feet before declaring. “Dada.” 

Ethan’s heart stutters in his chest, his surprise obvious as tears well in his eyes. 

She remembers him. 

“Daddy’s here, Rosie, Daddy’s got you.” He promises, unable to resist pulling his girl tight to his chest, pressing a shaky kiss to Rosemary’s soft baby fluff, roses and rust perfectly blending with her natural sweet scent. He’s got her back, his girl. Honouring the promise he had made to her mother’s grave - he has Rosemary back, his happiness and grief filling his heart and he jumps when warm leather caresses his cheek, wiping away the tears that have run down his face. 

He looks down at Lady Dimitrescu, surprised by the warmth in her eyes, the understanding glowing in the golden pools, her mouth is set in a sad smile. 

“You really are her father.” 

Rosemary turns at the voice, gurgling out. “Mama.” Tugging the fingertip she holds tightly into her mouth, sucking on the leather of the glove - her dark eyes lighting up and she squeals with delight when Lady Dimitrescu kisses her forehead, nuzzling her firmly.

“I think Rosemary has made her choice, my Lady,” Ethan says, heart stuttering as Lady Dimitrescu looks up at him, devastation clear on her face for a moment before she composes herself, the emotion locked away behind a mask of indifference. “She’s ours.”

A wide beaming smile cracks that mask like a hammer, her eyes misting at the corners, unshed tears gathering before she blinks them away, her other hand coming to rest on top of his on Rosemary’s little pot belly and Ethan smiles in return, relief and joy lifting his heart, feeling free of the burden that had weighed so heavily on him.

“Yes, I believe you’re right, Mr Winters.” Lady Dimitrescu says before turning her smile on the child in his arms, cooing endearments as she tickles her, Rosemary giggling and squealing in joy.

Their daughter

What has he gotten himself into?


	3. Chapter 3

“It appears another storm is coming,” Lady Dimitrescu says quietly as she looks over her shoulder to the open window, Ethan glancing up to confirm, even as the room darkens ominously; the sickly grey clouds filling the sky quickly, diffusing the sun’s rays. 

“Are they common up here?” Ethan asks from his position on the soft, heavily patterned rug by the fireplace, now the only light source in the previously sunny room.

“Oh yes, it rains up here all the time, a downside potentially but the garden does thrive from it.” She replies as she places her book face down upon her crossed knees, picking up a biscuit from the little platter and nibbling delicately - the crunch still audible.

“Mama!”

His eyes lock with Lady Dimitrescu’s, her silent plea for help obvious, as Rosemary squeaks in outrage; little lips frowning as she rolls to face her mother, heedless to her father’s attempts to distract her by wiggling her favourite plush teddy bear with the handsome red ribbon in front of her.

“Rosie, hey, look here.” Ethan tries as Rosemary begins to crawl across the carpet to the couch where her mother sits. “No you don’t kiddo,” He holds her back by grasping her periwinkle dress, scooping her up by her belly and pulls her back towards him. “Your mommy needs to eat too.”

“Dada no!” She shouts, squirming in his hold and wailing.

Lady Dimitrescu sighs with exasperation, looking forlornly at the biscuit as she sets it down. “It’s alright Mr Winters, I’ll eat when she’s asleep.”

“With her hearing you’ll need to do it at the village.” He replies, setting Rosemary down as she kicks out at him. “Okay, okay, Mama’s girl.” He shakes his head as the baby crawls her way over to her mother.

Lady Dimitrescu smiles down gently at their daughter, no trace of irritation on her beautiful face, as she bends to pick the little girl up, cuddling her and pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek as Rosemary fusses. She chuckles as the baby rubs her cheek against the exposed warm skin of her collarbone, sobbing lowly. 

“Is daddy being mean to you, my love?” She coos as she smiles at him; full red lips split by the brilliance of her white teeth, cheeks dimpling attractively and her eyes crinkling with amusement. 

Ethan swallows heavily as he crawls over to them, kneeling by Lady Dimitrescu’s feet on the carpet. He reaches out imploringly, tangling his fingers in the silk of her dark plum dress, leaning his chin against her impossibly long legs as he looks up at Rosemary.

“Rosie,” He says imploringly as he tickles the sole of Rosemary’s foot, suppressing a smile as the baby whines and curls against her mother more, hiding her face in the dark curls. “Look who’s come to see you.” He sing songs as he walks the bear up and over the Lady’s knee. 

“Rosemary, look, it’s your bear.” Lady Dimitrescu coos and tickles their daughter under the chin, rubbing her gloved thumb gently over the reddened cheek.

Rosemary turns at the touch, sniffling before she spies her bear sitting on her mother’s knee, transfixed as she watches him slowly inching along the outside of the thigh. Lady Dimitrescu shivering at the light touch, leaning in to nuzzle Rosemary’s cheek with her nose as she watches him from the corner of her golden eyes.

Ethan gasps and makes the bear duck back down and Lady Dimitrescu giggles at Rosemary’s shocked expression. 

“Bur?” She gurgles in confusion and leans towards him, umber eyes searching for her toy as Ethan pokes the head of the bear back up, waving the little arm at their daughter and Rosemary squeals with laughter. 

“Is Daddy forgiven?” He asks with a woebegone expression as he waddles the bear up to give Rosemary a hug, the little girl cuddling her bear tight, eyes fluttering closed as she rubs her cheek against his furry belly.

“For now, it would appear.” Lady Dimitrescu smiles, taking advantage of Rosemary’s distraction to pick up her biscuit, trying for a second bite of her treat when Rosemary looks up, catching her in the act and squeaks, letting go of her bear and reaching out for the biscuit. 

“Rosemary, no - you’ll spoil your dinner.” She says firmly as she keeps the biscuit out of their greedy daughter’s grasp.

“Mama cookie!” Rosemary begs, big crocodile tears welling up in her eyes as she sobs and Lady Dimitrescu falters in the wake of their baby’s distress as the sobs turn to wails.

“Oh, my darling, no - don’t cry. Shh.” She tries unsuccessfully to soothe the tears, wiping at them gently as Rosemary cries. “Alright, alright, you can have it.” She aquiests and leans past Ethan, oblivious to the fact that their daughter has stopped crying. 

Ethan only shakes his head, knowing at this point that it was pointless to try and convince her of their little girl’s manipulative ways; all Rosemary has to do is look up at her with those big dark eyes, cuddle cutely up against her breasts and her mother gives into whatever she wants - and she says he’s the soft one. Pfft. 

“Wait, wait!” Ethan calls as she dunks the biscuit in her tea, softening it with the fluid, grabbing her wrist and halting the motion, a small thrill running through him at the contact, swallowing heavily as her golden eyes meet his. “Use my tea.” He insists, dark eyes earnest and stomach churning at the thought of Rosemary drinking blood even inadvertently through a biscuit.

“It’s just tea, Mr Winters, nothing  _ special _ added. I assure you,” She replies with a reassuring smile. “At least not since a certain  _ someone _ decided that I had to share whatever I eat.” She coos, pressing a kiss to the little girl’s cheek as Ethan lets her go.

“Cookie.” Rosemary smiles in return reaching out to grasp her mother’s fingers as she is fed the biscuit, crushing it into a sodden paste and smearing it half over her face, the rest falling down right into Lady Dimitrescu’s cleavage, if the sudden flinch is anything to go by.

“Oh, Rosemary,” She sighs deeply, grimacing as their daughter giggles. “No, no, no. Don’t -“ She yelps as Rosemary smears the biscuit further over her exposed skin and dress, picking up a chunk of the gooey biscuit’s remains and puts it in her mouth chewing happily as she drools.

Ethan fishes a handkerchief out of his pocket. “You’re a messy thing aren’t you, Rosie?” He grins as the baby babbles happily, swatting at her mother’s earrings and offers the handkerchief to Lady Dimitrescu. 

“Mama, yum.” Rosemary coos as she snuggles against the ample cleavage, nuzzling against it as she clutches the dampened neckline of the dress in one little fist.

“Thank you.” Lady Dimitrescu shakes her head with fond exasperation as she gently cleans Rosemary’s face and fingers as the baby bats at her mother’s in return. “Hold still, tiny worm.” She grins, leaning in to nip at Rosemary’s now clean fingers, growling playfully as she cleans the tops of her breasts, Ethan blushing as the pale flesh jiggles, shifting his focus to Rosemary as she wriggles excitedly and Lady Dimitrescu struggles to hold onto her - clearly the sugar is working.

Rosemary shrieks with laughter as she grabs Lady Dimitrescu’s nose who gasps loudly, sending the baby into further hysterics.

“What are you laughing at?” Lady Dimitrescu asks with a beaming smile, pulling their daughter close, curls tickling the baby soft skin. Rosemary squeals as she is suddenly pinned on her back upon the seat cushion, wriggling harder as her mother mock growls again and proceeds to tickle her little belly, making exaggerated noises as she bends her long form over the baby and pretends to eat her.

It’s disconcerting to think just a few short months ago Ethan would have been horrified to see such a thing; to have his daughter at the mercy of a vicious, bloodthirsty predator but he can see now the mauling is no more sinister than gentle kisses and harmless puffs of air blown against her cheeks, the blood blossoming over Rosemary’s body just the Lady’s lipstick, waxy and easily removed once their fun is over - baby soft skin perfect and whole, dark eyes glowing with joy as she looks with adoration at her mother in all but blood. A fact easily dismissed by the traits she shares with him; the same golden blonde hair, umber brown eyes and pale skin.

The game gradually transforms into a gentle cuddle as nips become kisses; Rosemary’s pudgy arms reaching out to her mother, the pitch of her squeak emphasising her point as Lady Dimitrescu’s playful growls trail off into a soothing purr, lifting their daughter against the pillowy softness of her breasts, the child in her arms snuggling close and clutching at the ever present pearl necklace. 

“Mama.” Rosemary sighs softly against the warm skin of Lady Dimitrescu’s chest, tiny body relaxing, feeling the fatigue of the earlier game with her father. 

“Rosie.” Lady Dimitrescu replies against their daughter’s hair, kissing the crown of her head, golden eyes sliding shut with contentment, thick smokey lashes resting against her cheeks, breathing in Rosemary’s sweet baby scent, relaxing back into the throw pillows on the couch as she does so. 

Ethan watches it all with heartache and grief welling deep within his chest - how he wishes Mia could see Rosemary like this; safe, warm and so very loved by a woman who had, quite literally, killed to protect her, before she even knew or loved her. Protecting her even now, unknowingly, from Chris and whatever plan he and the treacherous BSAA had been hatching.

He cannot help but worry - fear and dread his near constant companions when not in the company of Rosemary or Lady Dimitrescu. She doesn’t know, nor could she ever understand how safe she and her children are kept by medieval folklore, the ancient fear that goes along with it as well as the remoteness of the castle and the village it looms over. He’s seen first hand with Eveline what those anti-bioweapons can do, the Lady and her daughters wouldn’t stand a chance if the BSAA decided they were worth pursuing, worth putting down and with Chris still potentially nearby - Ethan shudders, choking back bile as his stomach churns, if he could murder a woman he helped save - what wouldn’t he do to one he could deem a monster?

“Are you alright, Mr Winters?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, concern colouring her tone as she looks down at him, her frown betrayed by her earnest expression, golden eyes gentle and black eyebrows furrowing.

“Yes, I’m fine.” He croaks around the lump in his throat and attempts to reassure her with a wobbly smile, as much as it grieves him that she is not Mia - he would like nothing more than to see her continue to gaze upon Rosemary as if she is the greatest treasure she could ever have. 

“You don’t look fine.” She replies, swift and brutal in her honesty even as the concern continues to bleed free. 

He scratches the back of his neck, mindful of the healing marks upon the tender skin as Lady Dimitrescu moves with a fluid grace, holding Rosemary securely as she settles beside him on the carpet, her skirts pooling around her haphazardly in a plum sea of fabric as she situates their baby on her lap. Rosemary immediately taking a hold of her mother’s hand, drooling happily on the unresisting fingertip as she gnaws upon it with a toothless grin. 

“It’s just, the way you care for Rosemary - it reminds me of Mia.” He says after a moment, not wanting to upset her with the truth, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, letting out a shaky breath as he does so. 

“You must miss her.” Lady Dimitrescu murmurs quietly, her tone sombre and more understanding than he would have thought.

“Everyday,” He replies, gaze downcast, his own confusing feelings for the Lady another source of anguish that he attempts to stamp out, it wasn’t her fault - beauty cannot be helped and as for kindness, he would rather be here, vulnerable with her by his side than he would to like her servants, invisible to her golden gaze and equally uncared for. “I wish she could see this; how happy Rosemary is, how well you’ve taken care of her, how much you love her.”

“She can,” She says gently, her hand carefully cupping his cheek, brushing away the glistening tear that manages to worm its way free, her tone honeyed and sympathetic. “The ones we love are never really gone and you still have a piece of her in Rosemary.” Her gloved palm is warm and reassuring on his cheek as he leans into the touch, needing the comfort she so readily gives, as she lifts his watery gaze to look her in the eye. Ethan feeling like he could drown in the kindness he finds in her golden pools, the floral overtones of her perfume strong in his nose as he shuffles closer, utterly bewitched by this side of her - never having imagined he could be on the receiving end of it. “Hold onto that.” 

All too soon her palm leaves his cheek, Ethan staring after her his throat tightening and lumping with grief and the loneliness the separation brings when she lifts Rosemary from her lap, gently placing the little girl in his arms, supporting her gently until he holds their daughter securely, bringing her closer so he can breathe deep her sweet baby scent.

“Dada.” Rosemary murmurs quietly, dark eyes wide with distress as she pats at his arm. 

“It’s okay, Rosie, Daddy’s fine.” He promises, heart heavy and bleeding as he holds her gently, biceps tensing with the need to crush her to him and never let her go again. To do as Lady Dimitrecu says and hold onto the last piece of Mia he has left - with all of his being and reverently kisses the crown of her head.

“You will be.” Lady Dimitrescu promises as she shifts; to move away or from the room is irrelevant as Ethan grasps her hand securely in his, holding her firmly in place as startled golden eyes meet his reddened dark ones.

“Don’t go.” He beseeches imploringly, holding her gaze and watching, heart fluttering fiercely within the cage of his ribs, ready to burst free when her golden orbs soften and she settles in closer to the pair with a tender smile.

“I won’t.” She promises, fingers closing around his as she returns his hold, squeezing gently in reassurance, a soothing purr rumbling within her chest as she leans in to nuzzle their daughter. 

Her golden eyes flicker up, capturing his dark ones from under fluffy eyelashes as she leans into his personal space, Ethan able to see the darker flecks of honey within her gold irises as her nose lightly brushes against his in a careful nuzzle, the rumble of her purr growing louder as she chuffs when he doesn’t pull away. He should pull away, he should, Ethan thinks as he leans in, his ragged breath rustling her curls as their foreheads touch; her warm skin like a soothing balm, spreading gently along his as his racing thoughts settle and calm. 

He wants more - more of her compassion, more of her kindness, more of her warm skin against his own. He shouldn’t want and yet he does as he only lets go of her hand to cup her jaw, gooseflesh bubbling up along his arm, fine hairs standing on end, as his roughened fingertips glide along her impossibly soft skin so the junction of his thumb and forefinger straddles her earlobe, the cool tickle of her pearl earring rolling against his skin a reminder that this is real. Her eyes slide shut of their own accord as she sighs, sinful red lips parting as her warm breath rushes over his lips.

“Look at me.” He demands gruffly, breathing in deeply and shakily as he leans back to look at her properly. “Tell me to stop, before I do something we’ll both regret.” 

She shakes her head no, even as her eyes open again, her claws gently running through his hair in a soothing caress. “I won’t be the one who regrets this, Mr Winters.” She replies, tone firm and certain even as she trembles.

Heart thumping hard enough to be felt in his throat and ears, Ethan leans in - his dark eyes flickering from Lady Dimitrescu’s golden eyes to her inviting red lips, as they part slightly, a shuddering breath escaping her, misting against his as he destroys the gap between them. He captures her lips in a searing kiss, eyebrows furrowing as he groans at the taste of her, slightly sweet from their afternoon tea, both hands hold tight to her jaw, fingertips tangling in her inky black curls as he moves his lips against hers demandingly - leading their kiss even as she matches his eagerness and forces him to slow down - to savour the moment. The soft leather of her gloves run through his hair as she presses closer, her curves flush against his chest. Her palms settle on his shoulders, pushing him back gently as their lips separate and they gasp for air. He buries his nose in the junction of her neck and shoulder, breathing her scent in deep, holding her in his lungs until they burn. 

He sighs as he finds his head cradled with the utmost care in her arms, a soft melody falling from her lips as she hums gently, their baby clumsily singing the tune from her position on the carpet, her bear held in her chubby hands as she looks back at her parents. Ethan smiles gently as he looks from his daughter to her mother, at the gentle look usually reserved for her children bestowed upon him and she pecks a kiss upon his forehead. 

“Do you regret it?” She asks him, voice warm and kind as her rumbling purr soothes his frayed nerves.

“No.” He murmurs and clutches her tighter to him, arms winding around her waist as he buries his face against her cleavage, soaking up her gentle affections.

“Dada no!” Rosemary shouts, hitting his leg as fat tears well up in her dark eyes. “My Mama!” 

Ethan looks down with a disbelieving smile as Lady Dimitrescu laughs, separating from him with a loving smile as she scoops up their daughter and covers her cherubic face with kisses.

“Is that better, my little rose?” She asks, snuggling their baby as Rosemary sulks, clinging tightly to her mother’s neck. 

_ Bang _

They both startle apart, Rosemary crying out in fear at the loud noise, her mother growling threateningly, her expression thunderous as she looks to the now open door. Ethan follows her gaze, face flushing bright red in mortification as he looks up to the whitened and terrified face of the servant girl.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t dismiss you right now and leave you to my daughters to punish.” Lady Dimitrescu snarls with fury, golden eyes sharp as the servant girl’s knees shake.

“Lord Dimitrescu is here, my Lady, he’s early.” She squeaks out.

Ethan turns his confused gaze to Lady Dimitrescu, wondering just what the hell the servant was talking about when he sees her face; pale and frightened, all her previous irritation gone as she ensures a further distance between them. It can only mean one thing he thinks as his confusion gives way to fear - what has she been keeping from him?

“How long?” Lady Dimitrescu asks as she hurriedly presses the baby into his arms, oblivious to Ethan’s change in mood.

“His lordship is still in the main foyer, the others are stalling him now.” The servant responds, clearly they’ve done this before. 

“Good, ensure Mr Winters has whatever he requires,” Lady Dimitrescu turns back to him. “Please stay here, he can’t see you - I can’t protect you if he sees you.” Her tone is more serious than he’s ever heard, frantic even and he finds himself nodding. 

“What is going on?” He demands instead, dark eyes searching her gold for answers he isn’t sure he wants, his fear and confusion only growing when she leans in to press a hurried sweet kiss to his forehead before lowering herself to press another to the top of Rosemary’s blonde fluff, smiling warmly as Rosemary babbles in return.

“Be good for your father, Rosie.” She coos gently, looking up at him briefly. “I’ll explain later, I promise.” She says before standing only enough to hurry through the door, periwinkle skirts swishing behind her as she straightens and disappears.

Ethan grimaces, looking at the servant girl, worry filling his tone. “Who is this Lord Dimitrescu guy - is he dangerous?”

The servant girl shrugs lightly as she busies herself with tidying up the room, her nerves betrayed in the tremble of her fingers. “All of the Dimitrescu family are dangerous, sir. But, while Lord Dimitrescu is not as even tempered as Lady Dimitrescu, he does prefer to live closer to his factory near the village. He likes to oversee the work personally, as Lady Dimitrescu does with her vines but he always makes the time to see his family.”

_ Family _

The word sucker punches Ethan hard in the chest, and he swallows heavily - who the hell is this guy? Is Rosemary safe? He questions as he pets Rosemary’s hair gently, settling back against the couch’s cushions as the baby curls up on his stomach, yawning quietly as she snuggles against him to sleep and he waits for the Lady to return.

“Wakey, wakey,” Comes the breathey coo against his ear, a soothing kiss soon following it against his cheek as he opens his eyes to see Lady Dimitrescu kneeling in front of him. “Did you two have a nice nap?”

He nods slowly, looking up at her, relieved to see her smile - they must be okay. “I didn’t mean to sleep, but you’ve been gone for hours - what was all that about? You want no lies and that’s fair but turnabout is fair play, my Lady.”

Lady Dimitrescu’s eyes crinkle as she settles at his side. “You’re right and I do apologise but there simply wasn’t time to tell you, he’s such an impatient little shit.”

“Who?” He asks then, lifting his arm to give her room to shift closer, a warmth building within him as she does so.

She sighs then, the same exasperated tone she gets when her daughters are being defiant. “My little brother - my  _ annoying _ little brother who loves nothing more than to take what is mine and break it.” She explains with a huff and she leans in to nuzzle their sleeping baby.

Relief courses through him as he slumps further against the couch with a wry grin. “I’m yours now am I?”

“In a manner of speaking, my bites are not just a means to get your blood, they are also a brand of ownership, if you will, if my brother saw them... Well, he never could stand when I refused to share my things and with your intoxicating scent I’m afraid he may not be able to resist killing you. Just the scent of you on my gloves were enough to garner his interest in sampling you.” She replies, lowering her head to gently run her tongue over the marks, checking on their progress as she does so. 

The cold hand of mortal fear grips firmly to his heart, his body tensing before she gently shushes him, cupping his face in her hands gently.

“Don’t be afraid, I won’t let him hurt you,” She coos softly, nuzzling him gently. “You are the father of my child, to lose you would break her heart.”

“Is that the only reason?”

She pauses then before replying, hesitation clear in her golden orbs. “It is the simplest.”

“What is the more complicated one?”

“I think you know, hold her tight now,” She murmurs and smiles and takes his hand in hers once more, him fastening his hold on their daughter as she lifts him to his feet easily. “Come with me - I have a surprise for you. I was going to show you earlier,” She rolls her eyes in annoyance. “Before we were interrupted.” 

“What is it?” Ethan asks her as he allows himself to be led through the corridors, missing her hand in his as they make their way to a room on the first floor, not too far from the parts of the castle he has become familiar with, following as Lady Dimitrescu ducks to enter it.

“Do you find it to your liking?” Lady Dimitrescu asks as she elegantly sits down on one of the cream coloured couches by the already lit fireplace. Ethan trailing after her as he takes in the room - the theme following the rest of the castle; a four poster bed patterned in golden leaves and flowers, another doorway leading off to, what he assumes is a bathroom and a vanity area tucked into the corner of the room. 

“Is it Rosemary’s?” He asks her, unsure as to why else they could be in here.

Lady Dimitrescu shakes her head, amusement upturning the corners of her lips into a catlike grin. “No, this is for you. I had the servants move your things in here this morning.”

“So this isn’t because I kissed you.” 

She smirks then as her smile widens. “No, this is because you are my guest and the father of my child. I do believe you have earned the right to some privacy.”

“A comfortable bed doesn’t hurt either, my Lady.”

“Good, now, before I forget there is just one more thing - I would like for you to join my daughters and I for meals from now on.”

“Oh, well.” Ethan says, paling as he recalls the last time he had encountered Lady Dimitrescu’s daughters - the bruises still haven't faded yet. 

“My girls will be on their best behaviour I assure you, Mr Winters,” She promises as she stands fluidly, heels clacking on the floorboards as she comes to stand in front of him. “I am afraid it is past Rosemary’s bedtime.”

Ethan cranes his neck to look her in the eye, nodding as he visibly deflates, a part of him disappointed even as he expected nothing less, when she bends and gently takes their dozing daughter from his arms, pausing to allow him to kiss her blond fluff in farewell. “Night Rosie.” He coos gently and he looks up to meet warm golden eyes.

“Goodnight, Mr Winters.” Lady Dimitrescu murmurs gently as she leans in to press a lingering kiss to his cheek, inhaling his scent deeply before she licks gently over her bite marks. 

“Goodnight, my Lady.” He replies as she pulls back, holding the door open for her as she leaves, watching her swiftly disappear around a corner and the heavy clacking of her heels fades from earshot. 

Ethan closes the heavy dark wooden door behind him as he begins his nighttime routine, grateful beyond measure to be able to do this on his own without the prying eyes of the servant girls judging each new bite mark that dotted his neck or wrists. At least now he would be able to clean himself up, he thinks perhaps even Lady Dimitrescu would stay until he wakes up, her undoubtedly soft hands gently tending to his wounds. He shakes himself free of those imaginings, as he climbs into the bed, groaning at the feeling of the soft mattress, the smooth slide of the cream sheets a welcome change from the coarse - bleach cleaned ones the servants utilised and as he relaxes back, breathing in deeply as the storm looms overhead. 

Thunder crashing overhead awakens Ethan from his slumber, startled he flails as he looks around his bedroom, chest heaving in fright - a few successive strikes of lightning illuminating the room. Heart hammering Ethan lowers himself back onto the sheets, breathing deeply and inhaling the scent of petrichor that has filled the air as he attempts to slow his heartbeat and relax, pulling the blankets up to his chin once more. The distressed cry of a baby ensures sleep remains elusive, Ethan hurriedly throwing back the blankets and swiftly exiting the room, there is only one baby in the castle after all and he hopes to catch a glimpse of her - perhaps find out where in this maze of opulence Lady Dimitrescu keeps her. 

He follows the cries to a corridor that is only illuminated partially by an orange glow emanating from under a single door, quietly he opens it, rubbing his eyes and he swallows hard as he stares. 

Oh, this was a mistake. 

Lady Dimitrescu is seated by the fireplace, her attention still blessedly on the fussing baby in her arms; beautiful face while bare of her usual makeup and jewellery is instead filled with distress, the perfect curls of her hair limp and tousled. Ethan swallows hard as his eyes take in the leagues of perfect pale skin on display from the revealing ivory nightgown; the neckline plunging deeper than anything he’s seen her wear before and he realises the thin material has done little to shield her from the cold, her nipples clearly visible and pressing against the oddly wet fabric. 

“I know baby,” Lady Dimitrescu whispers tiredly, her pale palm firmly patting the distraught child on the back rhythmically as she holds her close. “Shh, I know it hurts.” 

Rosemary’s little face turns red as she roots around, rosebud lips latching onto the fabric encased nipple. Ethan’s eyes widen in surprise as Lady Dimitrescu swiftly detaches the wailing baby, offering her gloveless finger instead, pressing the tip into her mouth. Yet Rosemary only cries harder, turning her head away from that comfort, legs and arms flailing and smacking her mother’s hand away as she screams louder. 

“I don’t know what you want.” Lady Dimitrescu whimpers thickly, a transparent sheen to her eyes as she presses a loving kiss to Rosemary’s head - clearly as overwhelmed as the child in her arms as her shoulders shake.

Ethan stands straighter, squaring his shoulders deciding that he needs to intervene and knocks on the open door. 

“My Lady?” He asks quietly, hoping not to startle her even as he does just that and she hisses at him before she recognises him. 

“Mr Winters, forgive me - I,” Lady Dimitrescu sniffles, her eyes wide and still full of unshed tears, even as she blinks rapidly to clear them. “What are you doing up at this hour?”

The sight of her so vulnerable has his heart aching in empathy, able to remember when this was him and Rosemary was still a newborn and only interested in her mother consoling her. He decides on telling her the truth as he steps into the room and closes the door behind him, approaching the pair and sitting on the couch next to them. 

“The storm woke me and I heard her crying - is she alright?” He asks worriedly as he reaches out his hand to rub Rosemary’s back soothingly. 

Lady Dimitrescu sniffles once more, lower lip trembling. “She’s teething and nothing I do is working. She just wants-“ She trails off with a blush. “I can’t give her what she wants.” She finishes wetly, her voice cracking with despair. 

He looks between her and the fussing child as Rosemary roots angrily across her mother’s chest again, when it suddenly clicks as to what Rosemary needs.

“Yes you can.” He replies gently as she looks at him in surprise before she huffs irritably, rolling her red rimmed eyes.

“Don’t be obtuse, Mr Winters, we both know I can’t feed her that way and she won’t take the bottle.” She grouses as Rosemary’s fussing kicks up a notch, the baby wailing in her mother’s ear as she flinches.

“You’re okay, bubba,” Ethan rubs Rosemary’s back more firmly, shushing her gently. “It’s not about feeding her - it’s a comfort thing. Her gums hurt, she’s probably frightened by all this noise so she wants her mom - she wants you.” 

“Are you seriously suggesting I let her, you know, on me?” She asks incredulously. 

“With all due respect, my Lady, Rosemary has been telling you what she wants.”

Still she hesitates, white teeth biting down on her lower lip as she looks down at their daughter, clearly warning with the idea of it. “Is, will it - hurt her?”

“No,” He says earnestly, shaking his head, reaching out to gently hold her hand in his, offering his support and reassurance, a small smile lighting up his face when she squeezes in return. “She won’t even really be nursing, just sucking. Like a pacifier but better.” 

“A pacifier?” Lady Dimitrescu asks as she tentatively adjusts her hold on Rosemary, cradling her in her arms as she would for taking her bottle.

“It’s like her bottle’s nipple,” He explains as Rosemary shifts in her mother’s arms, turning to nuzzle her nose, nostrils twitching as she sniffs the swell of Lady Dimitrescu’s breast.

“Maybe you should move the, you know, save your nightgown.” He offers without thinking, feeling his cheeks heat up as Lady Dimitrescu glances up at him, exhaustion clear on her face as she carefully lowers the thin shoulder strap of her ivory nightgown over her right shoulder, allowing it to dangle along her bicep as she lifts her bare breast free of the fabric and offers it to the frustrated baby.

Rosemary stops crying and instead squeaks with delight as her tiny lips and pink tongue brush against the rose pink nipple, her mouth opening wide as she latches, lips flaring out as she drags the areola into her mouth as well and begins to suckle slowly and steadily. 

“That’s it, good girl.” He praises and gently pets her soft blonde baby fluff, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple as her little fist comes up to rest upon the swell of her mother’s breast, dimpling the warm flesh as she kneads like a kitten. “You did it, my Lady.” He praises as he tears his gaze away from the baby to her mother. 

Lady Dimitrescu doesn’t say a word, her gaze transfixed and utterly bewitched by their daughter as she nurses, a wet sob leaving her trembling lips and tears spill free and run down her flushed cheeks. Ethan reaches out to wipe away her tears gently, careful not to upset their mercurial child.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying.” She sobs after a minute of watching Rosemary, relieved beyond measure that the crying has stopped - the blackening bruises around her eyes showing starkly against her pale flesh, betraying her exhausted state. 

“It’s not easy to have your child so upset and not be able to help.” He reminds her gently, even as he coaxes her closer to him, glad she doesn’t resist and he kisses the top of her head as she relaxes back against him; her long legs curling up so she can fit on the couch better. “Are you in pain?” He asks her as she settles with her back against his chest, fingers gently carding through her tangled hair in a soothing caress as she purrs.

“No, it’s perhaps the oddest thing I’ve ever felt but it doesn’t hurt.” She murmurs the next part so quietly Ethan has to lean closer to her. “How did you know what she wanted?”

“I just put myself in her shoes, what would I want?” He remarks lightly, even as her palm comes up to lightly strike his chest. “No, but seriously, I felt so helpless while Mia was pregnant so I read - a lot of parenting books. I’m just glad it worked.”

“So am I,” Lady Dimitrescu yawns as she tucks her head underneath his chin, snuggling against him, her purr becoming intermittent as her head begins to droop against his shoulder. “She’s so precious.”

“She is,” Ethan smiles with paternal pride as he gazes down at their adorable daughter; the little snuffling noises she makes while she nurses as she slowly relaxes in her mother’s warm embrace. “Looks like it has worked, my Lady.” He remarks lightly and gently smooths his fingertips over the baby’s downy fluff. 

“Thank god,” Lady Dimitrescu murmurs quietly and Ethan brings his arm around hers to help support their daughter as the Lady begins to go limp, jerking awake intermittently, dark eyelashes fluttering as she fights sleep.

“It’s alright to go to sleep,” Ethan encourages, fingers petting gently over the shell of her ear. “I’ll keep an eye on her - I promise ” He assures her, tone firm and kind.

Lady Dimitrescu hums in what he assumes is agreement as she goes slack against him, nestling close with a quiet content purr that trails off as she goes to sleep; breathing slow and shallow. 

Ethan leans his cheek against Lady Dimitrescu’s forehead, listening to her gentle breathing as he watches their daughter as the suckling noises trail off, Rosemary yawning cutely as she snuffles and nuzzles against her makeshift pillow.

“Okay, kiddo time for bed,” Ethan murmurs gently, scooping the baby up so she is resting more comfortably along her mother’s sternum, one little hand reaching out to take a fistful of ebony curls and she settles in, head nuzzling against uppermost swell of the breast. “Good girl.” 

Ethan hooks his thumb into the sleeve of his pyjamas top, utilising it as a makeshift handkerchief as he carefully mops up the drool over Lady Dimitrescu’s nipple and surrounding breast tissue. He pauses, breath hitching in his throat, as Lady Dimitrescu’s eyebrows furrow in her sleep, shifting against him and inadvertently moving their child who whines quietly until her mother’s palm comes up to cradle her gently in her sleep - the pair resettling once more as their features smooth out. Ethan lets out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding, continuing his task as he slowly grasps the lacy edge of the ivory nightgown to cover the Lady up once more. 

The storm rumbles overhead, as Ethan settles in to watch the crackling of the fire, a strike of lightning illuminating the sky as he protectively cuddles the sleeping girls in his arms, his mind drifting as he remembers back to what feels like a lifetime ago; holding Mia as they watched some nonsense on the television as she cradled their newborn daughter in her arms, both of them exhausted as Rosemary refused to settle down, fussing until Mia allowed her to just use her as a pillow. He remembers the way Mia rolled her hazel eyes at him, an exasperated smile on her lips as she cuddled their daughter.

“Good to see some things don’t change.” He murmurs to the sleeping baby affectionately, dark eyes shifting to look at Lady Dimitrescu, fingertips trailing over the gentle slope of her cheekbone and sliding back to pet her once more, lips quirking in a small smile as she nuzzles his collarbone in her sleep. He wonders what Mia would think then, if she could see them as Lady Dimitrescu has said; would she be happy to see that her daughter was being cared for by another? That her husband - well, even he doesn’t know what this is or if it is him or the servants who will be proven correct in the end - is this all going to end in a frenzy of bloodlust and pain?

_ Crack _

Ethan jumps and tightens his hold on the pair, heartbeat pounding in his ears, chest tightening as he breathes out shakily, trying not to think about the ominous warning of the storm. Flinching as soft, warm lips press gently against his dancing pulse point.

“Don’t be frightened,” Lady Dimitrescu murmurs quietly, baby soft fingers lacing with his as she squeezes his hand reassuringly. “It’s nothing but noise and light, my dear - go to sleep.” 

Ethan holds her hand to his chest, nodding his head as he nuzzles against her dark curls, umber eyes sliding shut as he breathes out shakily, taking comfort in her ever present warmth as he drifts off to sleep. 


End file.
